


Indecent Proposal

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-22
Updated: 2006-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: When he only has 24 hours, Harry gets good at time management.





	Indecent Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for [Smutty Claus 2005](http://community.livejournal.com/smutty_claus) for [SelinaKyle47](http://selinakyle47.livejournal.com/). **Warning** : Very dubious consent and BDSM (use of a posture bar and gag).  


* * *

Harry took a step back and admired his work. She looked uncomfortable, but not to the point of pain, and the defiance in her eyes made him happy that he'd decided against the blindfold. 

"Hello, Pansy," he said quietly, approaching the bed as he might an angry housecat. One of the nicest things about being a wizard was the ability to remove unnecessary clothing and secure complicated fastenings without ever touching, so by the time the touch actually _did_ happen, its impact could really be _felt_. 

"You look lovely like that," he continued, winding a long swathe of black cloth loosely around his hands. "I wonder how your husband would react, seeing you like this." 

Pansy made a noise of disgusted indignation and opened her mouth to speak; Harry gagged her. 

He secured the tie at the back (because sometimes not relying on magic was still the best way), and leant back again. Harry walked around the side of the bed to look at her from the back and, if possible, found that _that_ view even more appealing. The pink lace of her bra and knickers clashed beautifully with the black posture bar and the black leather cuffs circling her neck, wrists, and ankles. The two leather strips connecting her ankles to her wrists had the perfect amount of give, he decided, giving them a lazy tug. Pansy let out a muffled grunt of protest. 

Harry walked 'round front again. Yes, he'd definitely created something to be proud of. All of the haughtiness that Pansy had held through school and later as Malfoy's wife had been erased from her features. When he sent Pansy back to her husband, Harry would be satisfied. Thoroughly. 

Pansy was squirming a bit now, obviously unused to the position, and Harry vowed to make her do that again -- _more_ \-- later. 

"I'd bet a thousand Galleons that this wasn't what you thought would happen when Draco told you about my proposal, is it? You thought you'd be flat on your back, so you could play the part of the dutiful, _suffering_ wife as your misunderstood, former Death Eater husband's place in society was reassured by the wizarding world's saviour." 

Pansy just stared straight ahead, chin lifted as high as she could get it in her position. Harry could see right up her nostrils, which he found very funny. He laughed. 

"Did you know you were _the first thing_ he offered when he approached me? The very first thing. Not money or power, but _you_. Actually, I suspect he would have offered himself first if he thought I'd be interested in that sort of thing. Pervert." Harry smiled nastily. "Of course, I'm a pervert, too." 

He pulled his wand from his robes and ran its tip down the middle of Pansy's bra; when the material separated, he tossed the wand on the bed. Harry peeled the cups away, exposing her full breasts. He slid his hands under them, lifting one nipple to his lips, using his thumb to flick against the other. 

This time the noise Pansy made was anything but indignant. 

Harry climbed onto the bed, reaching around to hold the bar as he pushed her backwards, preventing her from toppling over. Not that there wasn't certain appeal in that, but he had twenty-four hours, and he planned on making excellent use of that time. 

Pansy made interesting noises when her nipples were bit, Harry observed, biting down harder. He mouthed the other one with just as much enthusiasm, then quickly switched from one side to the other, fingers and tongue running over the wet skin with increasing speed. Harry was hard, so hard, but he hadn't even yet shed his outer robe because this wasn't about getting off as quickly as possible; this was about creating a lasting memory. 

He hadn't forgotten the role Malfoy played in Dumbledore's death, in Hermione's, in _Ginny's_. Never would. Oh, he would publicly forgive Malfoy after this, but Harry had never planned on making things easy on him. Harry wasn't interested in breaking Pansy, but the least he could do was make sure _she_ never forgot, either. 

Harry pushed one hand under the lace of Pansy's knickers, grinning when he found her cunt already wet. 

"You like this more than you let on," said Harry, kissing her around the gag. His index and middle fingers slid over her clit, rubbing in circles as Pansy let out little high-pitched gasps, bucking slightly into his hand. "Do you like being licked, too? Having fingers inside you?" When Pansy didn't react, Harry clucked his tongue. "I can always stop." 

Pansy's eyes widened. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. That was interesting. 

"I'd like to taste you." He licked a stripe along the side of her neck, over the leather. His tongue continued its path against her jaw, behind her ear. "Every inch of you, in fact. Have you ever had so many orgasms that you passed out?" 

When Pansy's eyes widened this time, she didn't wait before shaking her head. 

Harry ran a hand down her side, fingertips lightly brushing over her ribcage, waist, and hips. "Draco obviously isn't doing his husbandly duties then," he murmured, tweaking a nipple again before she could protest. 

He bit down on her shoulder, sucking hard at the skin. Pansy didn't taste like anything in particular, but each pass he made with his tongue brought forth sharp, almost reluctant inhalations of breath. She squirmed again, but abruptly stopped, and Harry thought he knew why. The hand down her pants had stilled, and Harry could tell she was struggling to decide whether she should push against his fingers or not -- they must have felt so close, so warm, and she was clearly struggling between wanting Harry and remembering why she was here in the first place. 

So Harry made the decision easy; he removed his hand. She groaned. 

Harry clutched hard at Pansy's hips, hoping that she bruised easily, wanting to see his fingertips against her pale skin. He tongued her nipples again, the skin puckering as he blew air across them. Pansy whimpered then, her body shaking under his hands. 

"Like that?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before slithering down the bed to suck hard on her stomach. A strawberry-coloured welt appeared instantly, so he sucked another one below the first. 

What would Draco do if he got his wife back, Harry wondered, only to find her chest and stomach reading POTTER WAS HERE? The corners of his mouth tugged up as he flickered his tongue in and out of Pansy's navel. He would try that later, maybe, if he felt like it. Maybe he'd just try for HARRY -- the impact would be the same. 

Pansy was breathing heavily now, and Harry hadn't even got to the best part yet. He peered at her, watching as she pulled in air through her nostrils, struggling around the gag. For a snotty, pug-nosed pureblood, she certainly looked lovely this way, and Harry couldn't help imagining her still struggling for breath as he pushed his cock past her red lips. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist grabbing fistfuls of her dark hair, and didn't plan on trying. Harry's cock throbbed sympathetically at the thought, then again as he lay on his belly to sink his teeth into her thigh and insinuate both hands between Pansy's knees. 

Her upper body grew even more rigid as Harry pushed her knees apart. Holding her spine so straight had to hurt, especially judging by the irregular rise and fall of her chest and how she lifted her chin, but Pansy obediently spread her legs. Harry knew that that was partly because she knew he'd get his way no matter what, but also because she was desperate to have Harry's face pushed to her cunt, and that thought got him so hot that he had to stop himself from rutting against the mattress. 

He ran his tongue along the inside of one thigh, then the other, shoving aside the crotch of her knickers, not bothering to cut them off -- not wanting to. He spread her pussy lips apart, as he had done her knees moments before. Pansy was shining wet for him, and Harry couldn't help biting his lip. 

"Pretty," he breathed, inhaling her scent. "Gorgeous. Beautiful." 

And she was. It didn't matter that she was Malfoy's wife; considering the situation, that might have made her even more attractive. He stuck his tongue out, an experimental, brief lick, and was almost surprised by the strength of Pansy's nasally whine. He glanced up to find her staring down at him, eyes unblinking. A lock of hair fell over her eyes, and she didn't even try to push it away. Harry kept his eyes locked on hers as he made a slow pass with his tongue, barely there pressure that made her moan and jerk her hips. 

_That_ was even prettier. Harry thought he might let Pansy do all the work later, picturing himself kneeling on the bed, keeping completely still as Pansy rode his cock. There'd be desperation there, he was sure of it, as she tried to climb into his lap and rub her clit against his belly, his cock deep inside her as she struggled to come before he did, not knowing if Harry would let her have an orgasm. The restraints and posture bar would make her task even more difficult. And Harry wouldn't help at all -- that way, he could punish her if she failed. 

He hoped she failed. 

Harry shook his head, clearing it as he brought his thoughts back to the present. That line of thought made him about ready to come without being touched, and _that_ would be a bloody waste. He pushed one finger inside her, then two when the first went in easily. 

God, she was so _wet_. Harry used the wide flat of his tongue against Pansy, dispersing sensation as far as he could. He liked licking like this, especially, noticing that she'd used a depilatory charm to create a perfect triangle of pubic hair, nothing covering the underside. He wondered if she'd done that at Draco's request, or if she simply liked the aesthetics. Harry hoped it was the latter because the effect definitely worked on him. The skin felt smooth and warm against his lips, a contrast to the rough lace of her knickers, and Harry thought it a shame that he wouldn't have time to shave her himself. Pansy had definitely never used a Muggle razor, had possibly never even seen one. 

That would have been fun. 

He made his tongue into a point as he licked her harder, quick flicks of the tip against her clit as he shoved a third finger into her. Pansy was squirming steadily now, moans and whines interspersed with little sucks of air into her lungs. It was almost like she'd forgotten how to breathe. 

Harry licked faster, and her thigh shook uncontrollably under the hand not spreading her pussy wide. Would her thighs shake like that when he had her on her hands and knees, as he fucked her from behind? 

Probably. 

Pansy was close now, he could tell. His tongue circled her clit as four fingers thrust inside her, still easy, still so, so wet. He could make out her words now, meaningless swears still understandable even through her gag, and then, clearly, his name. 

And then -- just as she was pushing down onto his fingers, drawing in high, whiny gasps and moans every second, pushing her cunt against his face over and over and over, threatening to convulse and fly apart for him -- Harry stopped. 

Lifted his head. 

Drew his fingers away. 

And looked at the clock. 

Pansy, eyes wild, stared at him in dismay and anger. Her face was sweaty and flushed, and the indignant noise was back, pretty as ever. 

The reasons were different this time, though. 

Harry offered her an indulgent smile and, humiliatingly enough, patted her head. "We still have twenty-two hours to go, Pansy, thanks to your husband. I think we could both exercise some patience, don't you?" He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and retrieved his wand. The door slammed behind him as he left, shaking the walls. 

He wondered if Pansy toppled over. 

**END.**


End file.
